


The X-Men | Inherit The Earth: Episode 1 - Criminals

by tW_oT



Series: The X-Men | Inherit The Earth: The TV Series [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherhood of Mutants (X-Men), District X, Gen, Morlocks (X-Men), Mutant Registration Act (Marvel), Mutant Town, Origin Story, Politics, Screenplay/Script Format, Television, The Purifers (X-Men)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26663830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tW_oT/pseuds/tW_oT
Summary: Professor Charles Xavier is approached by Mutant Registration Act sponsor Senator Robert Kelly. Police officer Ismael Ortega makes a startling discovery about his stepdaughter Angel Salvadore. Mutant refugee Kurt Wagner arrives in Mexico, while teenage runaway Rogue is detained under a new law.
Series: The X-Men | Inherit The Earth: The TV Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940074
Kudos: 2





	The X-Men | Inherit The Earth: Episode 1 - Criminals

OVER BLACK. The LABORED BREATHS of a young child.

PROF. XAVIER (O.S.)  
Scott? Scott... Can you hear me?

YOUNG SCOTT (O.S.)  
_(panicked)_  
Who’s there? Who--

PROF. XAVIER (O.S.)  
It’s OK, Scott. I’m here to help.  
I’d like you to open your eyes.

YOUNG SCOTT (O.S.)  
No... No!

PROF. XAVIER (O.S.)  
It’s OK. Just breathe--

YOUNG SCOTT (O.S.)  
I-I hurt people. I killed... Did I  
kill--

PROF. XAVIER (O.S.)  
Everyone is safe, Scott. You can  
trust me. Just open your eyes and  
see for yourself.

  
INT. INFIRMARY/STATE HOME FOR FOUNDLINGS - OMAHA, NE -- DAY - 10 YEARS EARLIER

A YOUNG SCOTT SUMMERS, white, 12, touches the heavy RUBY VISOR resting over his eyes. He opens them and sees a WORLD BATHED IN RED.

PROFESSOR CHARLES XAVIER, white, 40’s, completely bald and in a wheelchair, sits next to Scott’s hospital bed. FORGE, 40’s, a Middle Eastern man, ponytail and a prominent moustache, stands next to the Professor.

ORPHANAGE STAFF are pressed against the far wall. Fearful.

PROF. XAVIER  
Hello, Scott. My name is Professor  
Charles Xavier.  
_(his mouth stops moving;  
telepathically)_  
_{And I’m different. Like you.  
You’re coming to live with me now.} _

  
EXT. STATE HOME FOR FOUNDLINGS -- DAY

The NEW YORK PLATES of Xavier’s ROLLS ROYCE leave the dirt lot, passing a sign for the rundown establishment.

And then we see the MASSIVE HOLE that’s been punched through the building’s roof. As if a meteor hit it, but a meteor that flew out from the inside.

**CHYRON: OMAHA, NEBRASKA - 10 YEARS EARLIER**

  
EXT. SALEM CENTER, NY -- DAY

Forge’s CYBERNETIC HAND grips the wheel of the Rolls. His eyes watch the road.

The Rolls pulls up to a gate off a tucked away road. The gate’s pillar reads 1407 GRAYMALKIN LANE. Forge reaches out, punches a code into a KEYPAD. The gate opens.

  
EXT. XAVIER MANOR -- CONTINUOUS

The back window rolls down and Scott, now with the heavy visor strapped to his head, gazes up at the majestic four-story victorian mansion.

**CHYRON: SALEM CENTER, NEW YORK**

  
INT. XAVIER MANOR -- DAY

Forge and the Professor enter the foyer. Scott follows them, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

FORGE  
This is it.

PROF. XAVIER  
Welcome to my home, Scott.

YOUNG JEAN (O.S.)  
Professor?

Scott turns to the staircase. A 13-year-old girl with wild red hair and piercing green eyes appears on the landing. She LEVITATES THREE TEXTBOOKS between her hands, focused. This is a YOUNG JEAN GREY.

PROF. XAVIER  
Yes, Jean. We’ve returned.  
_(beat)_  
Scott, I’d like you to meet Jean.  
You two will be studying together.

YOUNG SCOTT  
Hey...

YOUNG JEAN  
_{Hey.}_

Jean stares. There’s darkness in her. But Scott, ever so slightly, smiles.

EXT. ROADSIDE BAR - JACKSON, MS -- NIGHT

RAIN pummels the winding empty highway. SEMI-TRUCKS and MOTORCYCLES are lined up outside the roadhouse.

A HOODED FIGURE walks the highway alone, then slips through the bar’s front entrance.

**CHYRON: JACKSON, MISSISSIPPI - PRESENT DAY**

  
INT. ROADSIDE BAR -- CONTINUOUS

A THICK MAN in a trucker hat smacks an old JUKEBOX. Charlie Daniels Band’s “THE SOUTH’S GONNA DO IT AGAIN” fills the bar. Customers are sparse. A few truckers, a few bikers, and the women that prey on them.

The Hooded Figure sits at the bar. The hood comes down, revealing a fresh-faced white girl with a curly brown bob and a shock of white hair at the front. LONG GLOVES cover both hands. This is ROGUE, 16. A BARTENDER approaches.

BARTENDER  
Drinkin’?

ROGUE  
_(heavy Southern accent)_  
Strongest thing you got.

BARTENDER  
I.D.?

Rogue throws a COUPLE BILLS on the bar and nothing else. The bartender sighs. Fixes her a DRINK.

Rogue turns to look at the Thick Man across the bar. She shifts her body to present herself. Twirls her hair, bats her eyes. The Thick Man notices, licks his lips.

Rogue’s drink comes. She downs it.

  
EXT. BACK ALLEY/ROADSIDE BAR -- NIGHT

The Thick Man pushes Rogue out the back door and up against a wall next to a dumpster, chuckling to himself. His hands creep down her thighs.

Rogue shuts her eyes. Then grabs and kisses him on the lips. His smile disappears, body goes rigid. His VEINS are suddenly visible, GLOWING FIERY RED. As do Rogue’s.

He collapses. Rogue’s breath comes in heaves. She composes herself, rummages through his pockets. She finds KEYS, WALLET, and a PHONE. She enters the Thick Man’s passcode into his phone, opening a GPS APP. She runs toward his semi-truck.

  
EXT. INTERSTATE 20 -- NIGHT

The semi-truck tears down the open highway.

  
INT. SEMI-TRUCK CAB -- NIGHT

A calm Rogue looks out at the open road. The nothingness in front of her. Tears form in her eyes. She closes them.

Her foot pushes the pedal to the floor. Hands off the wheel.

POLICE SIRENS. She snaps out of it, grabs the wheel, slowing. BLUE AND RED LIGHTS flood the cab.

POLICE BULLHORN (O.S.)  
Pull over! I repeat, pull over now!

She complies.

  
INT. BULLPEN/POLICE STATION - TUSCALOOSA, AL -- NIGHT

Rogue sits handcuffed in the booking room. The COPS keep a wide berth from her. Some point at her and whisper. A CLOCK RADIO on a desk plays a CALL-IN SHOW.

REV. STRYKER (ON RADIO)  
...at best this “X-Gene” is the  
Curse of Ham manifest. At best!  
Necessary-- No, severe action must  
be taken! I want it known that I,  
Reverend William Stryker, stand--

TWO OFFICERS walk up to her. One pulls up a chair, keeping the berth. He reads from a printout.

OFFICER 1  
Alright missy. Under article one of  
the Mutant Registration Act, you  
are hereby no longer a citizen of  
these United States of America. You  
forfeit all rights to due process  
under law. You will wait her until  
you are moved to a detainment  
center. Any disobeying of our  
orders will be taken as an act of  
aggression. That clear?

OFFICER 2  
Ain’t got no problem puttin’ down  
animals ‘round here, you heard me?

ROGUE  
Is he OK?

OFFICER 1  
Trucker? Mad as a hornet, but he’s  
fine.

ROGUE  
No... Cody?

OFFICER 1  
The boy you attacked back in  
Jackson? No, he ain’t OK. That  
boy’s in a coma.

ROGUE  
I didn’t attack him.

OFFICER 2  
Oh, you didn’t now? What would you  
call fryin’ a young boy’s brain all  
up?

ROGUE  
I liked him. I just... He kissed  
me.

OFFICER 2  
...Huh. Serves him right then.  
_(beat)_  
Don’t touch nothin’.

The Officers walk away. Rogue’s face contorts. Despite her efforts, tears come.

ROGUE  
Cody... I’m so sorry.

**  
MAIN TITLES**   
**“CRIMINALS”**

  
EXT. WASHINGTON HEIGHTS STREETS - NEW YORK, NY -- DAY

FEET POUND THE PAVEMENT. CALIBAN, a lithe, alabaster-skinned mutant with bulging yellow-pupiled eyes sprints down a crowded sidewalk. EXPENSIVE PURSE clutched under his arm.

Two UNIFORMED NYPD OFFICERS are in hot pursuit. ISMAEL ORTEGA, a Puerto Rican officer in his early 30’s, calls out.

ISMAEL  
Stop! Police!

**CHYRON: NEW YORK, NEW YORK**

Caliban violently pushes ONLOOKERS into the officers’ path. 

ONLOOKER  
It’s a mutant!

Pedestrians SHRIEK, scatter. Some run into the street. In the confusion, Caliban ducks into a subway entrance. Ismael turns to his partner CHARLOTTE JONES, 30’s, black and butch.

ISMAEL  
He went under. Cover the other  
entrance in case he comes out the  
other side.

Charlotte redirects, while Ismael enters the subway.

  
INT. SUBWAY PLATFORM -- CONTINOUS

Ismael descends the stairs, scoping the congested lines of the turnstiles. Caliban is nowhere to be seen. He scans the backs of heads until his eyes rest on a PURPLE HOODIE.

He walks closer to the figure, trying not to show his hand. The purple hooded figure glances back, yellow pupil visible.

ISMAEL  
Freeze! NYPD!

Ismael reaches through the crowd and GRABS the hood, pulling the figure to the ground. Pedestrians JUMP BACK, gasping at Caliban’s appearance. Ismael forces Caliban’s arms behind his back. He buzzes the WALKIE clipped to his chest.

ISMAEL (CONT’D)  
Lottie, I got ‘em. We’re down here.

A WHOOP from the crowd, then APPLAUSE. Ismael sheepishly nods, playfully accepting a HIGH-FIVE from an onlooker.

  
EXT. WASHINGTON HEIGHTS STREETS -- DAY

Charlotte returns the purse to a wealthy-looking OLDER WOMAN.

Ismael watches with a mouth full of PIZZA, leaning against their patrol car. Charlotte walks over, accepting a slice from Ismael. Caliban is handcuffed in the backseat.

CHARLOTTE  
Any word?

ISMAEL  
We gotta take him back for booking,  
but they’re still not sure who we  
hand him over to.

CHARLOTTE  
She just wanted her purse back,  
she’s not even pressing charges.

ISMAEL  
Doesn’t matter. Obvious mutant. MRA  
says we gotta turn him over to the  
state. Chain of command’s just not  
clear on which department.

Charlotte peeks through the back window at Caliban.

CHARLOTTE  
Bet Albany’s still fighting over  
it.  
_(beat)_  
Ugly-lookin’ son of a bitch, ain’t  
he?

ISMAEL  
Sure that ain’t your reflection  
again?

Charlotte chuckles. The POLICE RADIO SQUAWKS from inside the car. Tucked behind it is a photo of Ismael and a chubby tween, an AFRO-LATINX GIRL with a bushy wild afro. Ismael answers.

ISMAEL (CONT’D)  
Ortega and Jones, at your  
service...

POLICE RADIO  
Hey Iz, this your daughter at P.S.  
188? Angie?

ISMAEL  
Yeah. What’s up?

POLICE RADIO  
They’re askin’ if you can get over  
there.

  
INT. HALLWAY/P.S. 188 -- DAY

Ismael marches toward a small group of ADMINISTRATORS gathered in the hallway. The PRINCIPAL, a mousy older woman, notices Ismael.

PRINCIPAL  
Officer Salvadore. Hi I’m--

ISMAEL  
Ortega.

PRINCIPAL  
I’m sorry?

ISMAEL  
Salvadore is Angie’s mother’s name.  
We’re not together anymore. Where’s  
Angie?

PRINCIPAL  
Officer Ortega, I want to first ask  
you to be calm. We are--

ISMAEL  
_(agitated)_  
Where’s Angie?

The Principal places her hands on Ismael’s shoulders.

PRINCIPAL  
I will take you to your daughter,  
but I need to know that you will be  
calm.

Ismael’s eyes dart between the other administrators. They’re all shaken. He takes a deep breath.

  
INT. GIRLS BATHROOM/P.S. 188 -- DAY

The Principal leads Ismael in.

PRINCIPAL  
There’s no one else in here. We  
cleared it out.  
_(beat)_  
The fourth stall.

Ismael walks past the Principal and up to the closed stall. His hand pushes against the door. It swings open, and Ismael recoils.

Suspended between the back wall and the stall is a PULSATING, GREEN ORB. Other TEACHERS and ADMINISTRATORS file in behind Ismael.

PRINCIPAL (CONT’D)  
As best we can tell... Angie is  
inside of that. Some other girls  
saw her enter the stall. Then they  
heard screaming.

ISMAEL  
Angie... This is Angie?

PRINCIPAL  
As near as we can tell. We have--

ISMAEL  
Then we need to get her out of  
there.

TEACHER  
_(grabbing Ismael)_  
No! Please!

A TEACHER pulls Ismael back. Ismael shakes him off.

ISMAEL  
Get off-- Who are you?

TEACHER  
I’m sorry. I-I’m a biology teacher.  
I have a, uh... Sir, I believe this  
is a cocoon. If we break your  
daughter out we risk-- We have to  
let it finish.

ISMAEL  
Well... I... Can I take her home?

TEACHER  
...We can take it down, yes.

Ismael paces around, confused. Agitated.

PRINCIPAL  
Offi-- Mr. Ortega. We know what  
this probably means. I’ve never  
heard of a cocoon, but Angie was--  
Is the right age. Puberty is...

Ismael moves toward the Administrators, suddenly threatening.

ISMAEL  
None of you tell anyone about this.  
You understand me. Not a word.

PRINCIPAL  
You of all people understand, we’re  
mandatory reporters.

Ismael reaches for his service weapon. Tears in his eyes.

ISMAEL  
I don’t understand anything. What  
you need to understand-- Whu-- What  
you need to know is I can make  
things very difficult. For all of  
you. You understand? Answer me.

The Administrators all nod, terrified.

PRINCIPAL  
Yes.

ISMAEL  
Good. Good. We weren’t here today.  
No one needs to know.  
_(beat)_  
Help me get her down.

Ismael rips off his policeman’s shirt.

  
INT. HALLWAY/P.S. 188 -- DAY

Ismael walks down the hallway cradling the cocoon in his uniform.

SEN. KELLY (V.O.)  
We are proud to announce that over  
ten thousand mutants, nationwide,  
have been identified and had their  
citizenship revoked thanks to the  
Mutant Registration Act. And this  
is only the first step.

  
EXT. CAMPAIGN RALLY - CLEVELAND, OH -- DAY

A MASS of people wave red, white and blue signs declaring: KELLY FOR PRESIDENT.

SENATOR ROBERT KELLY, 60’s, a white man with graying temples and sensible glasses, stands on stage reading from a TELEPROMPTER.

**CHYRON: CLEVELAND, OHIO**

SEN. KELLY  
We will continue to roll out the  
bill I sponsored over the coming  
months so that the good _natural  
_people of America will once again  
be able to sleep at night knowing  
their children are safe in their  
schools and knowing that their  
friends and neighbors are safe in  
their communities. We will not live  
in fear. We will prevail. And when  
I am president, we will finally  
return to the America that we love.  
Thank you.

An outpouring of APPLAUSE. Kelly waves as he descends the stage, joined by HENRY PETER GYRICH, 30’s, black and dripping with ambition. They speak as Kelly shakes hands on his way to the waiting limo.

GYRICH  
Not bad, not bad.

SEN. KELLY  
Who wrote that one, an intern? That  
run-on at the end killed my  
momentum.

GYRICH  
I think you made it your own. But  
I’ll check.

SEN. KELLY  
_(to supporters)_  
Thank you so much for coming out.  
Thank you. Vote Kelly in the fall!

  
INT. LIMO -- DAY

Kelly rides in back. Gyrich sits across from him, tablet in hand. 

GYRICH  
There’s overwhelming support for  
the MRA nationally, but no one’s  
happy about the roll out.  
Mutant-related crime is up 20% in  
the states that have already  
implemented. Meanwhile you’re 12  
points behind on the coasts,  
including your home state.

Kelly digs through the limo’s mini fridge.

SEN. KELLY  
Where’s my Newcastle?

GYRICH  
Word got out that you were only  
drinking imports. Campaign said  
we’re strictly domestic from now  
on. It’s playing better.

Kelly pulls out a BOTTLED BEER. Opens it.

SEN. KELLY  
Christ.

GYRICH  
Robert. I made a decision.

SEN. KELLY  
Yeah?

GYRICH  
I set it up. You’re meeting with  
Xavier.

SEN. KELLY  
Henry, you’re killing me with this.

GYRICH  
He’s the nation’s foremost  
authority on genetic mutation. He  
may have real insight. And if not,  
we can still show that you’re being  
sensitive, conferring with--

SEN. KELLY  
We just need to wait for the full  
MRA roll out. It’s rocky now, but  
the tide will turn. It has to.

GYRICH  
We don’t have that kind of time.  
Now we’re getting reports about  
terrorism, this Brotherhood...

SEN. KELLY  
The man’s an elitist. And I’m an  
elitist. I should know.  
_(beat)_  
He’s an old money quack with a tiny  
liberal cult built on junk science.  
Henry, the very term _Homo-Superior_ \--  
My brand is... We’re running on  
populism for God’s sake. 

GYRICH  
We’re losing on populism. And he’s  
better than the alternative.

SEN. KELLY  
What’s the problem with the  
alternative?

GYRICH  
I’m told he’s unconvinced you’re a  
true believer.

Beat.

SEN. KELLY  
All that money, you know where  
Xavier went? Carnegie Mellon. Like,  
is he trying to look like a joke?

GYRICH  
Meeting’s in the morning. Plane’s  
gassing up now.

SEN. KELLY  
I’m gonna need a Heineken when we  
land.  
_(holds up the bottle)_  
This is horse-piss. I’m drinking  
horse-piss.

GYRICH  
Like a champ, you are. And that’s  
the job.

  
EXT. COUNTY JAIL YARD - TUSCALOOSA, AL -- DAY

Armed GUARDS look on as Rogue stands in a line of prisoners being loaded into a TRANSPORT VAN. All the prisoners wear orange jumpsuits, but only Rogue’s has a large BLACK “X” scrawled across it.

Rogue steps in to the van. The guard notices the “X” on her back and throws her to the ground by her collar.

GUARD  
Other van, genejoke.

Rogue struggles to rise with her hands cuffed behind her. She sees the other van across the yard. The Guard points his rifle at Rogue.

GUARD (CONT’D)  
Move.

Rogue jogs across the yard toward the van.

  
INT. TRANSPORT VAN -- DAY

Rogue climbs in the back of the van. Another prisoner in an “X” jumpsuit, TOAD, 19, with dreadlocks and puke-green skin covered in warts, is already inside. His legs are abnormally long, and his hands are webbed.

Rogue takes a seat far from Toad. Trying not to stare.

  
INT. TRANSPORT VAN -- LATER

Rogue rests her head against the van’s window.

TOAD  
How’d they get you?

Rogue turns, surprised by the attempt at small talk.

ROGUE  
Stole an eighteen-wheeler.

TOAD  
Oh, shit. You a real one.

ROGUE  
Yeah. I guess I am.  
_(beat)_  
How about you?

TOAD  
_(scoffs)_  
You serious?

ROGUE  
What? I wanna know.

TOAD  
They looked at me.

Beat. 

ROGUE  
I’m sorry.

TOAD  
Kinda happy ‘bout it. Jail’s got a  
roof, three square meals. And I was  
gettin’ my ass whooped every other  
night livin’ on the streets.  
_(beat)_  
So why’d you steal it?

ROGUE  
Tryin’ to start over. Just...  
Tryin’ to get away. From somethin’  
I did.  
_(beat)_  
When I touch people I hurt them.  
And I touched someone I was tryin’  
really hard not to hurt.

Beat.

TOAD  
I’m Toad. Well... People call me  
Toad. And I don’t mind it anymore.

Rogue smiles at him. She thinks to herself.

ROGUE  
Rogue. I’m Rogue.

  
EXT. PORT OF ALTAMIRA - ALTAMIRA, MEXICO -- DAY

Dock workers unload a CARGO SHIP. A GRAB-TYPE SHIP UNLOADER arms out and attaches itself to a shipping container.

**CHYRON: ALTAMIRA, MEXICO**

  
INT. SHIPPING CONTAINER -- CONTINUOUS

An unlit OIL LAMP wobbles as the container shifts. PINHOLE SHAFTS OF LIGHT form holes in the hull, illuminating the container. STACKS of imported goods, nearing the ceiling, fill most of the container.

A BODY wrapped in layers of BURLAP stirs. SCRAPS OF FOOD surround the figure, as well as a GERMAN BIBLE. A THREE-FINGERED COAL BLACK HAND, with ROSARY BEADS around the wrist, turns on the oil lamp.

  
EXT. PORT OF ALTAMIRA -- DAY

The shipping container is lowered on to a truckbed.

  
EXT. TAMAULIPAS STREETS -- DAY

The truck carrying the shipping container rides through as the sun sets.

  
INT. SHIPPING CONTAINER -- CONTINUOUS

Two three-fingered hands are clasped around the rosary beads, faintly lit by the lamp. The hands belong to KURT, 20’s.

KURT  
Gegrüßet seist du, Maria, voll der  
Gnade, der Herr ist mit dir. Du  
bist gebenedeit unter den Frauen,  
und gebenedeit ist die Frucht  
deines Leibes, Jesus. Heilige  
Maria, Mutter Gottes, bitte für uns  
Sünder jetzt und in der Stunde  
unseres Todes. Amen.

At Kurt’s feet is a ripped-out MAGAZINE PAGE showing a photo of Professor Xavier shaking hands with the GERMAN CHANCELLOR. The German headline translates to: “LEADING MUTANT RESEARCHER VISITS BAVARIA.”

  
EXT. WAREHOUSE -- NIGHT

The DRIVER climbs out of the parked truck as a number of WAREHOUSE WORKERS come out. They open the container and unload the goods by hand, using WORKLIGHTS.

A Warehouse Worker wearing a headlamp ventures deeper into the container. He slides a stack of goods away as his headlamp lands on a pair of DEEP YELLOW EYES WITH NO PUPILS.

He SCREAMS, stumbling back. The other workers turn to him.

DRIVER  
¿Qué pasó?

WAREHOUSE WORKER  
El diablo... El diablo!

A FLASH OF ORANGE LIGHT from the depths of the container. Accompanied by the sharp SOUND OF AIR BEING SUCKED OUT OF A ROOM, like a vacuum seal. “BAMF!” GRAY SMOKE floats out.

A BAMF from behind the Workers. A figure cloaked in tattered burlap drops out of the sky. The Workers all turn. The Driver pulls out a HANDGUN. ANOTHER BAMF as he fires indiscriminately into the air. But there’s nothing there.

The workers stand in a circle, wide-eyed and trembling. Their eyes search the yard, but there’s nothing to be seen.

WAREHOUSE WORKER (CONT’D)  
Vamos!

The workers take off in different directions, scattering.

Kurt watches them from the warehouse roof, ORANGE SMOKE still spilling from his mouth. He pulls the burlap away from his head revealing a pleasant, bearded face. POINTED EARS frame his face, his feet are large and TWO-TOED. A SPEAR-ENDED TAIL sneaks down between his legs.

He turns around to gaze at the CITY LIGHTS in the distance. And in another flash of orange and smoke, he’s gone. Across the street, Kurt drops from a BAMF on to another roof. He moves like this, roof to roof, towards the city.

  
EXT. MUTANT DETAINMENT CAMP - ATLANTA, GA -- NIGHT

Rogue’s transport van pulls into a glorified tent city. BARRACKS of ramshackle bunk beds are surrounded my high RAZOR-WIRE FENCING. Two GUARD TOWERS are positioned at the far corners of the camp.

Rogue and Toad are unloaded from the van by guards clad in HAZMAT SUITS. They fall in with a dozen or so other “X”-MARKED MUTANTS fresh off of their trucks.

**CHYRON: ATLANTA, GEORGIA**

  
EXT. SHOWERS/MUTANT DETAINMENT CAMP -- LATER

The mutants are bathed by POWER HOSE against a wall outside.

HAZMAT GUARD 1  
Hey guys, Sarah’s back. Nice to see  
you Sarah!

SARAH RYALL, 20’s, a blonde woman next to Rogue, raises her hand as the guards WHISTLE and CHEER.

  
EXT. BARRACKS/MUTANT DETAINMENT CAMP -- LATER

Back in their jumpsuits, Rogue and Toad each carry a small FOLDED SHEET over to the bunks.

INTERCOM SPEAKERS  
Find any open bunk. Lights out in  
two.

Most of the detainees are very old or very young, and most have obvious physical mutations. They all look hopeless. Rogue finds an open bunk and Toad takes the one next to it. The LIGHTS SHUT OFF.

A BLINDING PINK LIGHT comes from a few bunks away. Sarah is GLOWING. She sits up and her jumpsuit falls away as if there were no body left to cling to. Rogue and Toad watch as she floats away from the bunk and through the fence.

INTERCOM SPEAKERS (CONT’D)  
‘Til next time Sarah.

Farther down the barracks a blonde teen, SAM GUTHRIE, takes a running start and then LAUNCHES himself like a rocket over the fence. Rogue watches him vanish into the night sky.

TOAD  
_(whispering)_  
Yo. Think I can get you out.

Rogue turns to him. Whispers back.

ROGUE  
What’re you talking about?

TOAD  
They don’t call me Toad just ‘cause  
of my complexion. I can jump over  
that fence. Easy. Get on my back,  
I’ll get you outta here.

ROGUE  
I can’t. I can’t touch you.

TOAD  
Just grab the jumpsuit. They can’t  
stop us, they ain’t even tryin’.  
I’ll get you out and I’ll come  
right back.

ROGUE  
...You’re not comin’?

TOAD  
Nah... Three square meals. But you  
can get back to starting over.

Beat.

ROGUE  
I’m staying here. Three square  
meals.

He nods, tries to hide his smile.

  
INT. BATHROOM/ISMAEL ORTEGA’S APARTMENT -- NIGHT

Ismael rests against the toilet, eyes closed, one hand wrapped around an open LIQUOR BOTTLE. The cocoon is in the bathtub next to him.

The cocoon slips on to it’s side. Then rolls, upright again. The fibers wrapping it part. The SOUND OF CHITIN TEARING. A wet mess of black nappy hair blossoms out, crowned by glistening INSECTOID WINGS.

ANGIE  
...Dad?

Ismael’s eyelids flutter. He looks over and then jumps back. ANGIE SALVADORE, 13, looks at her father through SHINY BLACK COMPOUND EYES.

ANGIE (CONT’D)  
Dad, where am I? What's going on? 

ISMAEL  
Angie?

ANGIE  
What’s wrong? Why are you looking  
at me like... Like...

Angie’s voice trembles, lips quiver. Ismael rushes over and wraps her in his arms, gripping her tight.

ISMAEL  
Nothing, mija. Nothing is wrong.  
It’s all OK.

Ismael pulls away and takes a good look at Angie.

ISMAEL (CONT’D)  
You’re beautiful. You look so  
beautiful.

Angie looks down at the remains of the cocoon.

ANGIE  
What is... What is all this stuff?

Ismael pulls her into the hug again.

ISMAEL  
Don’t worry about that, mija. Just  
focus on me. OK. Focus on me.

With her chin on his shoulder, Angie looks past her father. She catches her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

  
INT. APARTMENT HALLWAY -- CONTINUOUS

Angie’s SCREAM reverberates down the hallway.

  
INT. ISMAEL ORTEGA’S APARTMENT -- DAY

BANGING ON THE DOOR from outside. Ismael rushes to the front door. It’s a nice apartment, clean and well cared for.

NEIGHBOR (O.S.)  
Ismael? Is that you in there?  
I heard a scream.

ISMAEL  
We’re OK, Mrs. C. It’s just Angie,  
but she’s OK. Thanks.

Angie continues to WAIL. Ismael rushes back into...

  
INT. BATHROOM/ISMAEL ORTEGA'S APARTMENT -- CONTINUOUS

He kneels in front of Angie who has one leg out of the tub, crying so hard she struggles to breathe.

ISMAEL  
I know, I know. But you gotta calm  
down now. Please, you just gotta  
breathe.

Ismael wraps a TOWEL around her as she kneels on the bathmat. A film of PINK MUCUS still covers her skin. More BANGING.

NEIGHBOR (O.S.)  
She really sounds distressed. My  
son is an EMT and he lives nearby.

ISMAEL  
I said I got it! We’re fine!

Beat. Angie’s heaves slow. Ismael holds her face.

ISMAEL (CONT’D)  
That’s it. In and out. In. Out.  
You’re OK. It’s all OK.

Angie calms. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

NEIGHBOR (O.S.)  
Ismael! Let me in now. I want to  
see Angie.

Angie looks up at Ismael, she shakes her head frantically.

ISMAEL  
Hey, Hey! I’m gonna make her go  
away. I’m gonna make her go away.

  
INT. ISMAEL ORTEGA’S APARTMENT -- NIGHT

Ismael opens the front door to see the NEIGHBOR, a tiny woman in her 60’s wearing curlers and a housecoat.

NEIGHBOR  
I know you’re police Ismael, but I  
just want to see Angie for myself.  
So I know she’s OK.

ISMAEL  
Yeah well, she is OK. And I am a  
cop. And you’re invading our  
privacy. So you need to walk away.

Beat.

NEIGHBOR  
Ismael, I’m just trying--

Behind Ismael, Angie runs from the bathroom to her bedroom still wrapped in the towel, her wings peaking out. The Neighbor sees her. Her jaw drops.

Ismael slams the door closed.

  
EXT. WESTCHESTER COUNTY AIRPORT - WHITE PLAINS, NY -- DAY

SCOTT, now 22, a strapping man with a G.I. Joe jawline, follows the Professor towards the private jet deplaning on the tarmac. Scott wears a pair of stylish RUBY SHADES.

Kelly steps on to the STAIR CAR with Gyrich. He spots Xavier.

SEN. KELLY  
Jesus. It’s starting already?

Gyrich waves as he hustles down the stairs. Kelly takes his time. Gyrich shakes hands with Xavier.

GYRICH  
Dr. Xavier! This is a nice little  
surprise. Thanks for meeting us.

PROF. XAVIER  
Of course. I wanted to make sure  
you arrived safely. To hear your  
candidate tell it, it’s a dangerous  
time in this country.  
_(beat)_  
This is my associate, Scott  
Summers.

Scott shakes Gyrich’s hand.

GYRICH  
Henry Peter Gyrich. Nice to meet  
you.

SCOTT  
All three names, huh?

Kelly catches up to the group. He shakes Xavier’s hand.

SEN. KELLY  
What’d I miss? Charles, great to  
see you again. And...

Kelly extends a hand to Scott. Scott doesn’t take it. Kelly drops it, awkwardly.

PROF. XAVIER  
Well, shall we?

  
INT. XAVIER MANOR -- DAY

Scott passes the sitting room where the Professor and Kelly talk over tea. He walks in to the kitchen where Gyrich paces while yelling into his phone. Forge, now with gray streaks in his long hair, reads the newspaper and sips from a coffee mug.

GYRICH  
No... No, we need a podium on the  
right side of the stage. He needs  
to turn into his good side...  
_(to Scott; re: coffee pot)_  
Is this a dark roast?

Scott gazes coldly at Gyrich.

GYRICH (CONT’D)  
I’m sure it’s fine.  
_(pours cup; back to phone)_  
This debate isn’t about that for  
us. I need to visually distinguish  
him from all the other old guys...

Gyrich takes his cup out into the hallway. Scott relaxes, leaning against the fridge. He glances at Forge.

SCOTT  
...This guy, I mean... Forge.

Forge turns the page. Beat. Scott’s still restless.

FORGE  
Fine... Let it out.

SCOTT  
Kelly’s a hatemonger. Cut and  
dried. Why is he here, what is this  
even about?

FORGE  
That’s probably what Charles is  
finding out.

SCOTT  
Kelly called this meeting. We’re  
giving him what he wants.

FORGE  
You’ve been around here almost as  
long as I have now. You should know  
that there’s never been a meeting  
of the minds where Charles Xavier  
hasn’t had the upper hand.

  
INT. SITTING ROOM/XAVIER MANOR - DAY

Kelly puts his CUP OF TEA down. Loosens his tie.

SEN. KELLY  
There’s a degree of trust that’s  
been broken, I get that. But an  
endorsement from you goes a long  
way toward mending that. The MRA  
can work if mutants buy in.

PROF. XAVIER  
Buy into what exactly?

SEN. KELLY  
More or less... We need them to  
accept detainment. Temporarily.  
Because otherwise--

PROF. XAVIER  
You don’t have the technological  
means to hold them. They’re  
escaping using their abilities.

SEN. KELLY  
Some of them. Most are staying put  
but... Too many are re-entering  
society radicalized, angry and  
violent. And they have no reason to  
play by the rules.

PROF. XAVIER  
Well, I’m sure it’s not too late to  
reverse the bill. It’s done  
nothing, but criminalize the  
mutant populace.

SEN. KELLY  
The bill is needed. People are  
scared and they are justly holding  
the government accountable.

PROF. XAVIER  
People are scared, they’re having  
their rights taken from them.

SEN. KELLY  
Let’s not do semantics, Charles.  
Normal-- _Natural_ people. Who for  
the first time in human history  
have to worry if their child is  
sitting next to a pig-tailed time  
bomb in social studies class.

PROF. XAVIER  
I see.  
_(beat)_  
Senator Kelly, I think you’ve  
overestimated my importance. I am  
an academic, with an interest in  
mutant physiology. I do not, and  
can not, speak for the mutant  
community.

SEN. KELLY  
You’re an expert. Who’s uniquely  
qualified to speak on our moment in  
history. To help move the country--

PROF. XAVIER  
Senator, again... You’re asking--

SEN. KELLY  
Oh, cut the shit, Charles! How many  
hoops do you want me to jump  
through here?  
_(stands; pacing)_  
You know who you are. You’re the  
only scientist in the country--  
maybe the world-- that thinks  
mutants aren’t a plague. Thinks  
they might be a good thing. And  
that’s made you a goddamn hero to  
them. That’s what you are. I know  
what you are.

PROF. XAVIER  
Senator Kelly are you insinuating  
that I myself, am--

Prof. Xavier furrows his brow, probing. We hear Kelly think to himself...

SEN. KELLY  
_{I’ve heard about mutants that fly.  
I’m pretty sure all of them can  
walk.}_

Xavier bristles.

SEN. KELLY (CONT’D)  
I know you’re not a mutant,  
Charles. But everyone in Washington  
knows about the work you do up here  
with your lab rats.

PROF. XAVIER  
If you’re referring to my _students_ ,  
I’ve never kept my work secret.

Kelly looms over the Professor.

SEN. KELLY  
And how long do you think it’ll be  
before the government is at your  
door asking for records of your  
work. So that we can register your  
“students”. Get in front of this.

SCOTT  
Everything OK, here?

Kelly turns to see Scott standing in the doorway. Ready. Kelly collects himself.

SEN. KELLY  
I was just leaving.  
_(to Prof. Xavier)_  
I await your call.

Kelly walks out.

  
EXT. XAVIER MANOR -- DAY

Gyrich, waiting by the limo, sees Kelly exit the manor.

GYRICH  
So..

SEN. KELLY  
It’s about that time, Henry.

GYRICH  
...Time for what?

SEN. KELLY  
The alternative.

They both climb into the limo.

  
INT. SITTING ROOM/XAVIER MANOR -- CONTINUOUS

The Professor and Scott watch Kelly’s limo pull away through the window. Forge stops in the doorway with his coffee.

SCOTT  
He get what he came for?

PROF. XAVIER  
This feels like the end of an era.  
I don’t think we can hide out here  
anymore.

SCOTT  
So then where are we going?

PROF. XAVIER  
No. No, we’re not going anywhere.

The Professor wheels into the hallway.

PROF. XAVIER (CONT’D)  
Forge, could you assist me with  
Cerebro? I’d like to check in on  
Jean.

Forge follows him. Scott turns, surprised. He softens.

SCOTT  
Jean?

  
EXT. ALLEY - CIUDAD VICTORIA, MEXICO -- DAY

Kurt rummages through a dumpster, voraciously eating SCRAPS OF FOOD. He glances to make sure no one sees.

  
EXT. CIUDAD VICTORIA STREETS -- DAY

Kurt peeks out onto the street, bustling with VENDORS and PEDESTRIANS. A PICKUP TRUCK pulls into an alley across the street and three SHADY LOCALS climb out. Two of them JIMMY the lock on a nearby shop that’s clearly closed. The third stays by the truck, peeling an APPLE with a HUNTING KNIFE.

The Shady Local slides the knife into its sheath on his belt. Above him, Kurt hangs upside down from the bottom of a balcony, his fingers and toes gripping like a lizard’s, fixating on the knife. He BAMFS away.

Kurt appears in the truck cab behind the Shady Local. He SLAMS his fist on the car horn and immediately BAMFS again.

Startled by the HORN, the Shady Local turns. He opens the door to the cab, just as Kurt gingerly snatches the knife.

  
EXT. OTHER ALLEY/CIUDAD VICTORIA STREETS -- LATER

Kurt watches, hunting knife in his mouth, as all three Shady Locals circle the truck, confused.

Kurt moves toward the back of the closed shop. He looks through a window and sees an empty bathroom. A BAMF and Kurt is inside the bathroom.

  
INT. BATHROOM/CLOSED SHOP -- DAY

Kurt lathers up SOAP in the sink. He carefully takes the hunting knife and SHAVES his face.

  
INT. CLOSED SHOP -- DAY

Kurt, now clean-shaven, peeks out from the bathroom, then steps into the shop.

A BLACK GARBAGE BAG is pulled over Kurt’s head. He struggles against it as the Shady Locals jump out and push him down. Kurt struggles, twitching, and then his body goes limp. The bag is pulled off his unconscious face.

SHADY LOCAL 1  
¿Mutante?

SHADY LOCAL 2  
_(in Spanish)_  
Must be. Never seen one with a tail  
before.

SHADY LOCAL 1  
_(in Spanish)_  
So what do we do with him?

SHADY LOCAL 3  
_(in Spanish)_  
We sell him. He’ll be a real earner  
for Mojo... Come on. We gotta keep  
him covered.

Shady Local 1 slips the bag back over his head. They drag Kurt away by his feet.

  
EXT. SCHOOL YARD/P.S. 188 - NEW YORK, NY -- DAY

MIDDLE-SCHOOLERS run across the blacktop, bouncing BALLS and SKIPPING ROPE. Most are black or brown.

On a nearby bench, an athletically-built red-headed woman sits with a book open in one hand, “INVISIBLE MAN” by Ralph Ellison, and a SANDWICH in the other. It’s JEAN, now 23. A classic beauty. Her eyes dart from the pages to the children.

JEAN  
Watch it guys!

SECRETARY (O.S.)  
Hey Jean!

Jean turns to the SECRETARY, holding the metal school door open. She’s one of the same administrators we saw earlier.

SECRETARY (CONT’D)  
There’s some people here for you.

JEAN  
I’m on lunch duty.

SECRETARY  
I got you covered. One of them is  
_tall_.

She arches an eyebrow, insinuating. Jean rolls her eyes. As Jean walks over, the Secretary’s gaze falls on a patrol car near the schoolyard. 

SECRETARY (CONT’D)  
Hey. Do you know how long that  
squad car has been there?

Jean looks behind her to check.

JEAN  
No, I didn’t even notice it. Why?

SECRETARY  
Probably nothing.

  
INT. NYPD PATROL CAR -- CONTINUOUS

Ismael watches Jean re-enter the school.

  
INT. P.S. 188 -- DAY

Jean walks down the hallway, dusting crumbs off her blouse. She looks up and sees the Professor and Scott in the distance, speaking with the Principal from earlier. Jean’s gait slows, breath catches. Then she doubles her pace.

JEAN  
Oh my God! Professor!

Jean wraps her arms around the Professor and he returns the embrace. Scott stuff his hands in his pockets, awkwardly.

PROF. XAVIER  
Jean, it is so good to see you  
again.

Jean pulls away. She looks up at Scott, smiling.

JEAN  
What’re you doin’ here? What’re you  
_guys_ doing here? Hi Scott!

Jean gives Scott a friendly hug. He melts a little.

SCOTT  
Hey. Jean. Long time.

JEAN  
Yeah. What is it, five-six years?

SCOTT  
Eight... It’s been eight years.

JEAN  
...but who’s counting.

Scott looks away. Jean smirks.

PROF. XAVIER  
Long time indeed. Precisely why we  
came to see you. We hoped you could  
spare a moment for old friends.

Jean extends a hand down the hallway.

JEAN  
To my lair.

  
INT. GUIDANCE OFFICE HALLWAY/P.S. 188 -- DAY

A narrow hallway of MODULAR WALLS, a sign hanging from the ceiling reads: GUIDANCE COUNSELOR OFFICES. SWARMING TWEENS avoid the OFFICE CHAIR that rests outside Jean’s office.

JEAN (O.S.)  
I mostly have eighth graders,  
they’re all terrified of high  
school. And when the year’s out, I  
help run a summer camp at Bard.

  
INT. JEAN’S OFFICE/P.S. 188 -- CONTINUOUS

Jean sits behind the desk in an unruly, closet-sized office. The Professor’s wheelchair is a tight fit and Scott stands against the wall opposite Jean.

JEAN  
The kids there are so sweet. Half  
of them cry their faces blue for  
the whole first week. I love it.  
_(beat)_  
But what about you, Scott? Eight  
years. What’ve you been up to?

SCOTT  
...Been helping the Professor.

Beat.

JEAN  
That’s great. That’s _great_. And you  
know what? So important.

PROF. XAVIER  
Well yes, that’s actually the  
reason we’re here.

JEAN  
Oh yeah? What's up?

PROF. XAVIER  
The Mutant Registration Act--

Jean’s eyes flit to her open office door. It CLOSES ON IT’S OWN. Her expression turns serious.

PROF. XAVIER (CONT’D)  
...Right. I’ve recently spoken with  
Senator Kelly.

JEAN  
Ugh, that bigot.

PROF. XAVIER  
Yes. Well, he has every intention  
of seeing his anti-mutant agenda  
through to the end. So, after  
careful consideration, I’ve decided  
to publicly reveal that I am a  
mutant. I’m hoping that this step  
towards transparency will build a  
bridge of understanding with our  
political leaders. Scott has agreed  
to join me in going public.

JEAN  
When are you gonna do this?

PROF. XAVIER  
Well, it depends. But I’m here to  
ask that you join us. I want to  
build a coalition of like-minded  
mutants to go public with me, to  
change the perception--

JEAN  
No. No, are you kidding me? No.

PROF. XAVIER  
I understand your concerns.

JEAN  
Professor... Look. I am so, _so_  
grateful for everything you’ve done  
for me. When I started with you, I  
remember not knowing if all the  
voices in my head were my own, or  
my parents’... Or from something  
evil. But you were patient with me,  
and you worked with me for _years_ to  
become the person that I’m proud to  
be today. And now I get to help  
kids figure out how to be their  
best selves, because of you.  
_(beat)_  
But if I tell the world what I  
really am, everything that I have  
worked for will be taken from me.  
Everything that you have helped me  
build. You cannot. Do that.

SCOTT  
You’re not seeing the big picture.

Jean locks eyes with the Professor.

JEAN  
_{Professor. Charles... Please.}_

PROF. XAVIER  
_{Jean, I didn’t take you in for all  
those years simply for your own  
sake. I __knew one day we’d need you  
to be you, for all of us.}_

Scott turns his head between the two of them. He realizes.

SCOTT  
Oh, we’re doing this again? This, I  
haven’t missed.

Jean leans back in her chair, resigning herself.

PROF. XAVIER  
I would urge you to reconsider. The  
choice to come forward may not be  
our privilege for much longer.  
_(beat)_  
It really has been wonderful seeing  
you.

The Professor wheels himself back from the desk.

JEAN  
Hey.

Jean’s eyes move from the Professor to Scott.

JEAN (CONT’D)  
You never did get to go to regular  
school, did you?  
_(to Prof. Xavier)_  
Mind if I give him a tour?

  
I/E. PICKUP TRUCK/CHIHUAHUAN DESERT - MEXICO -- DAY

Kurt’s head bounces against the truckbed, waking him. A SMALL CAGE surrounds him. His hands are bound behind him. He rolls on to his back, trying to look beyond the cage. All he can see is the walls of the truckbed and the sky. He looks forward, the Shady Locals ride in the cab.

We see the truck from above, cutting an unpaved path through endless desert. PULL OUT to see the truck’s destination: A stadium-sized BIODOME, covered in SOLAR PANELING. Several VEHICLES are parked near it, and many more drive towards it.

**CHYRON: CHIHUAHUAN DESERT, MEXICO**

  
INT. MUTANT DETAINMENT CAMP - ATLANTA, GA -- DAY

Rogue’s hand clings to the chain link fence. She looks past it to a CROW crossing the treetops. Toad watches too.

ROGUE  
Crow.

TOAD  
Deer.

Toad nods at a STAG emerging from the nearby woods. A SKUNK runs out, startling the stag.

TOAD (CONT’D)  
Oooh, Skunk! Bingo!  
_(beat)_  
That’s three to one, me. I’m  
killin’ you.

He draws a line with his foot through a DIRT BINGO BOARD between him and the fence.

ROGUE  
What’s the point anyway?

TOAD  
Shit else to do.  
_(as Rogue walks away)_  
Yo, don’t be a sore loser. Come on.

As Rogue walks toward the barracks she sees TAR BABY, an elderly white man with drippy, wet skin hanging off his body, lying in the dirt near his bunk. BRUSH clings to his limbs and face. He doesn’t seem to be breathing. Her pace quickens.

ROGUE  
Hey... Hey! I think this man needs  
help.

Two Hazmat Guards turn to look. Rogue drops to her knees at his side, careful not to touch. The Guards come closer.

ROGUE (CONT’D)  
I think he’s-- I think he’s dead.  
Or dying. Someone help him!

HAZMAT GUARD 1  
Is he dead or is he dying?

ROGUE  
I’m-I’m not sure.

HAZMAT GUARD 2  
Well, call us when you’re sure.

Rogue turns to see them, sharing a laugh. Toad leaps an incredible distance, from the fence to just behind Rogue.

A SHARP INHALE. Tar Baby’s arm lurches upwards and grabs Rogue’s hand, his eyes widen. At once, their VEINS ARE AFLAME.

TAR BABY  
Help-- Ahhhh...

Tar Baby’s arm falls. His body relaxes, lets go. Rogue’s veins still glow red. She watches her hand begin to SECRETE A YELLOW GUNK. It comes from her face as well, weighing down her skin. She SCREAMS. The Guards raise their guns.

HAZMAT GUARD 1  
Chem attack!

One Hazmat Guard unsheathes a baton and hits Rogue across the back of her neck, but the baton STICKS to her skin. The Guard yanks at it, throwing Rogue about.

HAZMAT GUARD 1 (CONT’D)  
She's got me!

ROGUE  
Get off me! Get... Off!

The other Guard grabs the baton as well and pulls. Toad VAULTS into the air, soaring and then landing an airborne MULE KICK to the second Guard, toppling him.

The Guard FIRES at Toad, who dodges. But a third guard surprises Toad, CRACKING HIS JAW with the rifle stock. The same Guard walks to a wriggling Rogue, STRIKING her as well.

HAZMAT GUARD 3  
Put ‘em in the box. Safer for  
everyone.

  
INT. THE BOX/MUTANT DETAINMENT CAMP -- DAY

Rogue is thrown like a rag doll into a free standing metal cell the size of a portable toilet, hazmat suits still stuck on her skin. She lies on the floor, motionless. Defeated.

  
INT. CAFETERIA/P.S. 188 -- DAY

Jean and Scott pass the NOISY CHILDREN eating at their long lunch tables. The normal childhood neither of them had.

JEAN  
So no college? At all?

SCOTT  
Some online courses. Stuff like  
that.

JEAN  
But nothing took?

SCOTT  
I like history. Military stuff,  
combat strategy. If it wasn’t for  
this...  
_(gestures to shades)_  
I think I might’ve enlisted. Or  
West Point, something like that.

JEAN  
They’re glasses Scott, not a  
hunchback. You’re not Quasimoto,  
you can leave the belltower.

Beat.

SCOTT  
I don’t think I get that.

JEAN  
Come on. Forget Hugo, it was a  
Disney movie.

Scott smiles. He sheepishly shakes his head.

JEAN (CONT’D)  
Oh my God, _Cyclops_ is still a baby.  
You’ve been so busy being a mutant,  
you missed out on being human.  
Getting drunk, falling in love,  
going to Europe--

SCOTT  
You went to Europe?

JEAN  
I lived in Europe. For a semester.  
French boyfriend and everything.

SCOTT  
Oh. Well, the Professor still needs  
my help--

JEAN  
Charles Xavier has the most  
powerful mind on Earth. He can take  
care of himself.

SCOTT  
A normal life is not as easy for  
me. You know, you look...

He trails off. She steps in front of him, ending the stroll.

JEAN  
How do I look, Scott?  
_(beat)_  
Come on, take these off.

She reaches for his shades, but he forcefully grabs her hand.

SCOTT  
Work in progress. Still. Years of  
practice didn’t quite work for me.  
Professor thinks it’s brain damage.

JEAN  
He’s holding you back. This public  
thing, it’s a selfish ask.  
And if you do it you will erase any  
chance you ever have for a normal  
life.

Beat.

SCOTT  
Maybe normal’s overrated. This  
Quasimoto guy... Sounds like they  
made a movie about him.

Jean laughs. She starts to walk again.

JEAN  
I may have underestimated you,  
Slim.

  
INT. KELLY CAMPAIGN JET -- DAY

Kelly sits in the cabin, tie loosened. SHARON KELLY, 50’s, a matronly blonde holds RUNT, a puppy, up on the video screen of the TABLET propped up in front of Kelly.

SHARON  
And here’s the runt of the litter.

SEN. KELLY  
Oh my, he’s adorable. What are you  
calling him?

SHARON  
_(laughing)_  
Runt. I used all the good names on  
the first five.

SEN. KELLY  
And how’s our lady doing?

Sharon slides the camera over, revealing a strawberry blonde DOG sleeping on a dog bed, behind her.

SHARON  
Regina is resting like the queen  
mother she is.

SEN. KELLY  
I wish I could’ve been there.

SHARON  
You’ll be back soon enough. How’s  
it going?

Kelly leans back, preparing to unload.

SEN. KELLY  
Ohh Sharon, this mutant thing...  
It’s eating everything else. It’s  
all people talk about. You know me,  
I got into this to put food on  
people’s tables, clean up the  
environment. Feel like I should’ve  
ran away from that bill.

SHARON  
Sponsoring that bill put you in the  
national conversation. You wouldn’t  
be running without it.

SEN. KELLY  
I still haven’t read it. And I  
don’t think I’ve ever even met a  
mutant. They’re less than half a  
percent of the country.  
_(beat)_  
We just need to get this whole  
registration mess over and done  
with so we can re-focus on what  
really matters.

SHARON  
Well I believe in you, sweetie. I  
know you’ll do the right thing.

SEN. KELLY  
I miss you so much, honey.

SHARON  
Oh stop. I’ve got dinner in the  
oven. Go be a hero.

SEN. KELLY  
I love you.

Kelly closes the tablet. He picks up a REMOTE and turns on the TV. A NEWS PROGRAM flickers on. A brunette reporter NAMED ON SCREEN as TRISH TILBY, 20’s, reads from a studio.

TRISH TILBY (ON TV)  
\--not any closer to developing a  
test for the so-called “x-gene,”  
the genetic anomaly theorized to  
cause mutation. In other news, the  
terrorists known as the Brotherhood  
have attacked another detainme--

He turns it off. He throws his head back, exhaling.

He pulls out a BRIEFING FOLDER, places it on the table. A POST-IT NOTE stuck to the outside reads: “THE ALTERNATIVE - PLEASE PREP.”

Kelly peruses the documents. He skims the military service record for a “WILLIAM STRYKER.” He shuffles from paper to paper, but then returns to one document. He leans forward to study it. The document heading reads: “WEAPON PLUS PROGRAM - ABSTRACT.” Several lines have been redacted.

SEN. KELLY  
Henry!

Gyrich walks over to Kelly from the other end of the cabin.

SEN. KELLY (CONT’D)  
Did you know about this?

  
EXT. AUDITORIUM/P.S. 188 -- DAY

The Principal sits on stage before the SCHOOL EMPLOYEES, who are spread across a few seating rows. Jean sits alone.

PRINCIPAL  
As some of you know, we had an  
incident yesterday. One of our  
sixth-graders-- _manifested_ \-- as a  
mutant in the girl’s bathroom.

Jean looks up, surprised. The other Employees glance around, exchanging GASPS and worried looks.

PRINCIPAL (CONT’D)  
Now it was a complicated situation,  
but I made the decision to follow  
the parent’s wishes and not report  
it to the authorities. However,  
it’s come to my attention that the  
parent, who is a police officer,  
has been surveilling the school and  
is still outside. Clearly, this is  
a safety issue--

FACULTY MEMBER 1  
Damn right it’s a safety issue!  
It’s a safety issue that you didn’t  
report the mutant yesterday!

Nods and SHOUTS OF SUPPORT for the comment split the room.

PRINCIPAL  
All due respect, you weren’t there.  
It was a tense situation, and I  
made what I still think was the  
safest choice.

FACULTY MEMBER 2  
What was the mutant’s name?

PRINCIPAL  
No. I’m not divulging that.

JEAN  
Has anyone just gone out and talked  
to him? He’s probably just scared  
for his kid?

FACULTY MEMBER 1  
What about my kids? Are you gonna  
report it to my kids when a mutant  
comes in and blows all of us up?

Jean GRIPS her armrest as a SHOUTING MATCH ensues among the Employees and Principal. Until...

JEAN  
Stop!

Everyone in the auditorium but Jean is FROZEN IN PLACE. Many have their faces contorted mid-shout.

JEAN (CONT’D)  
Relax.

Their faces and limbs fall, adopting a flat affect, as Jean walks forward. She gently TOUCHES the Principal’s temple.

JEAN (CONT’D)  
_{The mutant’s name?}_

PRINCIPAL  
_{Angie Salvadore. Her father is  
Officer Ismael Ortega.}_

JEAN’S MIND FLASHES -- Angie before the transformation. Running in the hallway. Skipping rope. The cocoon on the wall. Ismael reaching for his gun.

Jean lets go. She looks around the room.

JEAN  
_{None of you have ever met, seen,  
or heard of Angie Salvadore or  
Ismael Ortega. There was no mutant  
__incident yesterday. You have  
nothing to be afraid of.}_

Jean then walks out of the auditorium. The doors SLAM behind her. The sound jolts the Principal back.

PRINCIPAL  
Ummm... I’m sorry. I seem to have  
lost my train of thought.

  
I/E. NYPD PATROL CAR/P.S. 188 -- DAY

Jean walks outside. The children have all gone. She looks around until she spots the squad car from before.

Ismael sees Jean approaching. He sits up. Jean KNOCKS on the driver’s side window. Ismael partially ROLLS down the window.

ISMAEL  
Ma’am, I’m gonna need you to take a  
step back.

JEAN  
I want to help you. I want to help  
Angie.

Ismael’s eyes narrow. He opens the car door, Jean gives him room to step out.

ISMAEL  
Who told you? That principal? Who  
reported--

JEAN  
No. No one reported anything. You  
don’t have to worry about any of  
those people. Trust me. But  
listen... My name is Jean Grey.  
_(beat)_  
I’m a mutant too. I can help you.

Ismael stares at her.

ISMAEL  
But, you’re normal--

JEAN  
Just... There’s a place upstate, a  
man. He helped me when I was  
Angie’s age. She can live with him.  
Until all this sorts it itself out.

ISMAEL  
Live with him? You want me to give  
her up?

JEAN  
No. Well... Just for a few years.

ISMAEL  
_(chuckles)_  
How much? And what’s your cut, huh?  
I’m not giving up my daughter.

JEAN  
Look, this is the only option a  
girl like Angie has right now. Let  
me make a call, you can talk to-- 

ISMAEL  
No. I’m her father. She stays with  
me.

Ismael climbs back in the car. He starts it and pulls away. Jean watches him go.

  
INT. HOLDING CELL/THE ARCADE - CHIHUAHUAN DESERT -- NIGHT

A SHARD OF LIGHT hits Kurt’s face. He looks to the open doorway and sees two ARMORED GUARDS holding CATTLE PRODS.

  
INT. THE ARCADE -- NIGHT

People hustle to take their seats on the biodome’s bleachers. A VENDOR drags a COOLER OF BEER around to the audience.

A GIANT METAL CAGE, with CAMERAS and LIGHTS affixed to it, surrounds a colosseum-esque DIRT ARENA. MELEE WEAPONS are displayed on posts inside. Two ENCLOSED TUNNELS run from opposite corners of the cage to the walls of the biodome.

GIANT FLAT SCREENS at the top of the cage show the face of MOJO, a morbidly obese man with jaundice yellow skin, wearing something resembling welding goggles.

MOJO (ON TV)  
Buenas Noches! And good evening to  
our friends from across the border  
and everyone out there on the dark  
web. Welcome to the Arcade! Where  
society’s mutie trash is our badass  
treasure!

  
INT. CONTROL ROOM/THE ARCADE -- CONTINUOUS

In a room lit only by the MULTITUDE OF SCREENS, Mojo speaks into a CAMERA suspended in front of him. ARCHIE ARCADE, 40’s, a slight ginger man, mans a PANEL OF COMPUTERS.

MOJO  
Mojo here, bringing you the best in  
shit-kicking entertainment since--  
I don’t know. How long we been  
doin’ this Archie?

ARCHIE  
Like... Two years? 18 months?

MOJO  
Since pretty recently!

  
INT. THE ARCADE -- CONTINUOUS

Kurt is led from the tunnel and into the arena by the two Guards. He looks up at the HUGE CROWD assembled.

MOJO (ON TV)  
For our first round, we’ve got a  
newcomer for you all, a real  
looker! Give it up for Devil Child!

CHEERS come as Kurt steps into the light.

GUARD  
Pelea o morirás.

KURT  
_(”What?” in German)_  
Was?

GUARD  
¿Ingles? No fight? You die.

They SHOVE him, sending Kurt into the dirt face first. The tunnel closes behind him.

MOJO (ON TV)  
Whoa-ho-ho! Not a great start for  
Devil-boy!  
_(beat)_  
And! On the chopping block tonight  
is the fan favorite... You know  
her, you love her... Spiral!

Kurt sees a figure emerge from the other tunnel. SPIRAL, 30’s, an imposing white woman with six muscular arms and long silver hair pulled back into a warrior braid.

  
INT. CONTROL ROOM/THE ARCADE -- CONTINUOUS

Archie uses a joystick to redirect the cameras. He points one at a big BLINKING TARGET placed high on the cage, at least 20 feet off the ground.

MOJO  
First mutant to hit two of the  
three targets is safe from the  
elimination battle. But our war  
drones will be making things tough  
for them.

Archie again moves the cameras to show one of a number of FLYING DRONES with GUN TURRETS protruding from them.

MOJO (CONT’D)  
Is that good or what people? Could  
the stakes be higher? Well with all  
that said, let’s get on with the  
show!

  
INT. THE ARCADE -- CONTINUOUS

A HORN BLARES. Spiral breaks out. Leaping on to the caging, using her arms to CLIMB with incredible speed. She’s directly underneath one of the targets. A war drone BUZZES toward her, pointing it’s turret. Kurt watches, piecing it all together.

BAMF. Kurt teleports right above Spiral, gripping the chain links with his hands and feet. He SMACKS the blinking target light with his tail. It goes off. Spiral grits her teeth.

MOJO (ON TV)  
Whoa! Uhhh... Ladies and gentlemen.  
We did not know he could do that!

BAMF. Kurt appears next to the target on the other side of the cage. He HITS that one. The HORN BLARES again as Kurt teleports to the third target, HITTING IT for good measure.

  
INT. CONTROL ROOM/THE ARCADE -- CONTINUOUS

Mojo looks at Archie, who looks back at him and shrugs.

MOJO  
Holy moly, folks! That is a first  
round knockout if I’ve ever seen  
one! It is all over, uhhh... I’ll  
be honest, we probably could’ve  
planned that better. But them’s the  
breaks here at the Arcade!  
_(turning to Archie)_  
Hit the fence.

  
INT. THE ARCADE - CONTINUOUS

Kurt hangs on as he watches four Guards circle underneath.

A SURGING HUM. SPARKS FLY from Kurt’s fingers and toes. He falls. Guards drag his convulsing body and throw him in a trench on the arena’s side. They lock him behind the caging.

Spiral moves to a post that holds a BATTLEAXE. She places two of her hands on it, but doesn’t lift it. Those hands tremble.

MOJO (ON TV)  
Well we all know what that means  
folks! A fight to the death between  
Spiral and our reigning champion...  
The king of the cage...

A GLOWING EMBER pulses in the dark of the tunnel. The ember becomes a cigar as a very short, stocky, ethnically ambiguous man in a dirty white tank top walks out, his wild black hair obscuring his face. He drops the cigar and stamps it out. Muscles rippling.

Kurt, still weak, pulls himself up from the trench to see. Spiral looks on in fear. She already knows.

LOGAN, at once weathered and ageless, lifts his snarling mug.

MOJO (ON TV) (CONT’D)  
...the Wolverine.

INT. CONTROL ROOM/THE ARCADE -- NIGHT

Mojo looks over Archie’s shoulder at they’re tabulated VIEWER COUNT. It’s dropping from around 120,000.

MOJO  
Come on Logan. Make it good.

  
INT. THE ARCADE -- CONTINUOUS

The HORN BLARES once again. Kurt watches as Spiral picks up the battleaxe, then races over to another post to grab a KATANA. Logan moves slovenly, almost as if intoxicated.

Spiral grabs another KATANA. She stands, twirling twin swords and raising the axe with two other arms. She’s easily a full head taller than Logan. She cries out and CHARGES.

She BRINGS THE AXE DOWN. Logan SIDESTEPS the axe blade, which plunges into the ground. He PARRIES against the ensuing sword strike, the back of his hand meets the blade with a CLANG.

Spiral KICKS Logan in the chest and he ROLLS backwards. She sprints forward and GRABS Logan’s legs with two hands, then SINKS the katanas into both of his shoulders. Logan grunts.

MOJO (ON TV)  
Whoa! Spiral is playing for keeps  
tonight folks!

Spiral PUMMELS the pinned Logan’s torso with her remaining arms. Logan grabs the blades with his bare hands, BLOOD OOZING from his palms, and PULLS THEM OUT. He KICKS Spiral off him. She REORIENTS in mid-air, landing next to the axe.

She grabs and THROWS it hatchet style at Logan. He DODGES.

The axe HURTLES toward Kurt. He jumps back and the axe HITS the cage in front of him, getting lodged in the chain links.

Logan HITS Spiral’s jaw. She COUNTERS, but he spins away to KICK her side. Spiral grabs his leg, LOCKING HIM UP. She charges across the arena, PUSHING him along. She SLAMS him into the cage, next to the axe blade jutting out.

She PUSHES his face toward the blade. First with THREE HANDS, then FOUR. FIVE. Logan resists.

In one swift motion, Spiral PULLS the battleaxe from the caging with her sixth hand and lets go of Logan, while SPINNING to bring the axe all the way around and across Logan’s unprotected abdomen.

Logan FALLS to his knees. BLOOD AND OTHER THINGS spill from his stomach. He face plants on the ground.

Spiral backs off, her breath still quick. Still ready.

MOJO (ON TV) (CONT’D)  
Un-beeeeeeee-lieveable! The  
Wolverine has fallen. Is this it?  
Has the king been dethroned?

Kurt pulls himself up to the fencing. His face is a couple feet from Logan’s. He studies him.

Then Logan’s eyes OPEN. He COUGHS up blood.

LOGAN  
Relax kid. Enjoy the show.

He WINKS at Kurt. Logan PUSHES himself off the ground, inserting STRAY VISCERA back into his belly. The holes in his shoulders are closing rapidly, HEALING IN FAST FORWARD.

Kurt watches sinew and bone move under Logan’s skin, giving way to something sliding through his forearms. The SOUND of TENDONS SHIFTING, BONES SCRAPING. THREE METAL KNIFE BLADES emerge from between the knuckles on each of Logan’s hands.

MOJO (ON TV)  
Yes! Yes! The Wolverine lives!

Spiral raises her katanas up. But this time Logan CHARGES.

It’s a sword fight now. METAL HITS METAL as Spiral slides back, fending off Logan’s advances. He’s faster now, more agile, aggressive.

A COUNTER STRIKE. A PARRY. Logan SENDS A CLAW through Spiral’s wrist. She SCREAMS, DROPPING her katana. Logan capitalizes, SLICING OFF SPIRAL’S ARM at the bicep.

The crowd ROARS.

The arm TUMBLES through the dirt. Spiral holds her stump, withdrawing. Her hand searches the ground, finds the dropped katana. Logan advances, calmly. Spiral rushes him, flailing.

Logan easily avoids her, then, just as easily, TAKES ANOTHER ARM. Spiral FALLS to the ground, two bloody stumps LEAKING on to the dirt. Logan stands over her, looks her in the eye.

He PLUNGES his clawed hands into her chest. Spiral goes limp.

MOJO (ON TV) (CONT’D)  
Still undefeated, the undisputed  
king of the cage: Wolverine! Only  
at the Arcade!

Kurt watches as Logan turns and heads back into the tunnel.

  
INT. BOOKING/NYPD 30TH PRECINCT - NEW YORK, NY -- NIGHT

Ismael nods at the PASSING OFFICERS as he approaches the NIGHT SHIFT OFFICER at the desk. The room is mostly empty.

NIGHT SHIFT OFFICER  
Yo. Ortega, you...  
_(checks watch)_  
You’ve gotta be off by now, right?

ISMAEL  
Hey, the mutant I brought in  
yesterday, he get transferred yet?

NIGHT SHIFT OFFICER  
Nah, he’s still back there. Who  
knows when he’s gettin’ picked up,  
man. Everything’s so--

ISMAEL  
I need to talk to him. For a  
second. Buzz me back.

Night Shift Officer gives Ismael a look.

NIGHT SHIFT OFFICER  
Even muties gotta sleep, it’s 2 AM.

ISMAEL  
So I’ll wake him up.  
_(beat)_  
Five minutes... I’m workin’ on  
somethin’.

Beat. Night Shift Officer hits a button under the desk. BUZZ. Ismael nods and walks through the gate into...

  
INT. LOCKUP/NYPD 30TH PRECINCT -- NIGHT

Ismael walks past a row of overcrowded cells filled with DEALERS, MUGGERS, HOOKERS. The ADDICTS MOAN from withdrawal.

The last cell has only one inmate, Caliban. He sits up, wide awake. He moves in an effete, androgynous manner.

ISMAEL  
Couldn’t sleep either?

CALIBAN  
Caliban has slept enough.

ISMAEL  
...Caliban?

CALIBAN  
That’s what Caliban is called.

ISMAEL  
Oh... You remember me?

CALIBAN  
Caliban isn’t stupid. You arrested  
Caliban. And now you come to  
Caliban because you’re afraid.

Beat.

ISMAEL  
You don’t know anything about me.

CALIBAN  
True. But Caliban knows fear. Like  
birds know South in winter.

ISMAEL  
What? Is-is that your whole mutant  
thing? You smell fear?

Caliban stands, moving towards the bars. He cocks his head.

CALIBAN  
_(shakes heads)_  
No use. Humans are always afraid.  
Of what they don’t know. Can’t  
understand. But... Someone close to  
you. A partner or... No. A child.  
Your daughter, the insect.

ISMAEL  
Stop it.

CALIBAN  
That sweetness Caliban smells. The  
mutant on you.

ISMAEL  
I’m not someone you wanna push  
right now.

CALIBAN  
And Caliban is not here for favors.

Caliban opens his mouth. Half-smiling, half-brandishing his fangs. Ismael approaches the bars, speaking in hushed tones.

ISMAEL  
I’m scared for her.

CALIBAN  
How ironic.

ISMAEL  
I-I didn’t know until yesterday.  
_(beat)_  
I just wanna know... How do people  
like you do it? Survive?

CALIBAN  
Why are you asking Caliban? Caliban  
is in here.

ISMAEL  
She’s not safe here, not with  
everything goin’ on. I just want to  
know where else we could go.

CALIBAN  
You want to live where the mutants  
live? You want to take that from us  
too? Because the world you built  
doesn’t work for you now?

ISMAEL  
I didn’t build anything.

CALIBAN  
You watched them build it and you  
did nothing.

ISMAEL  
My daughter didn’t do anything.  
Please.  
_(beat)_  
This woman... She told me she could  
take her to a place that’s safe,  
upstate. Have you heard of it?

CALIBAN  
They say many things to put mutants  
in cages. Test their theories.

ISMAEL  
Well then what?

Beat.

CALIBAN  
Caliban lives with the Morlock  
mutants. Underground. Morlocks take  
our food, protect our keep.  
Morlocks are free. You would not be  
welcome.  
_(beat)_  
But there is also Unus...

ISMAEL  
Unus the Untouchable? The mobster,  
Angelo Unuscione?

CALIBAN  
He is making a safe place for  
mutants. But they pay a cost.

ISMAEL  
What is it?

CALIBAN  
He would find value in you. But  
someone like you could not ask  
unless you were very serious.

ISMAEL  
Unuscione... He’s a mutant too?

Caliban smiles.

CALIBAN  
Your fear is growing.

  
EXT. CRUSADE STUDIOS - HOUSTON, TX -- DAY

A limo pulls into the lot outside a small TV studio on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by pastures.

Kelly climbs out of the limo.

**CHYRON: HOUSTON, TEXAS**

  
INT. CRUSADE STUDIOS -- DAY

REV. WILLIAM STRYKER, 70’s, a spry white man with a full head of ash-white hair, stands before an array of CAMERAS. STUDIO LIGHTING beating down on him. His voice grave and commanding.

REV. STRYKER  
“If there be found among you man or  
woman, that hath wrought wickedness  
in the sight of the Lord thy God,  
and hath gone and served other  
Gods, and worshipped them, which I  
have not commanded... And it be  
told thee, and thou behold it to be  
true... Then shalt thou bring forth  
that man and that woman, which have  
committed that wicked thing and  
shalt stone them withmstones till  
they die.”  
_(beat)_  
Well, alright. That timed out  
pretty good, didn’t it?

Sen. Kelly and Gyrich enter from the back while Stryker techs the show. They stand behind the producer, MATTHEW RISMAN, 30’s, a white man with a jarhead haircut.

RISMAN  
Yeah, Bill. Timed out great. Now  
are you gonna keep turning to  
camera two when you get to the  
false Gods part or--

REV. STRYKER  
Matthew, you just tell me where to  
land and I will plant my feet.

GYRICH  
_(whispering)_  
Easy to work with.

RISMAN  
OK then Bill, we’re gonna go  
through the cues without you. Think  
you have visitors here anyway.

Stryker pulls an earpiece out and leaves it on the podium in front of him. He points at Kelly, with a charming grin.

  
INT. CONFERENCE ROOM/CRUSADE STUDIOS -- DAY

Gyrich and Kelly sit at a huge conference table, opposite Stryker and one of his aides, a young woman named ANNE.

GYRICH  
...With your military experience,  
maybe even a cabinet position.  
Regardless, you will have the White  
Office’s ear if we are in it.

REV. STRYKER  
Oh boys, I’m not interested in a  
government job. Been there, done  
that. What I care about is that you  
mean what you say?

SEN. KELLY  
Well, I’ll admit. I’ve lapsed a bit  
in the past. But Reverend, I am a  
God-fearing man. And I would not  
misrepresent that part of myself.

Stryker laughs. Gyrich and Kelly exchange worried glances.

REV. STRYKER  
Men of faith are a dime a dozen  
‘round these parts. If I use my  
network to help you, I want to know  
that you’re a man of character.  
_(beat)_  
I’m impressed by that Registration  
Act of yours, but in my opinion it  
doesn’t go far enough. Mutants are  
an existential threat to mankind.  
Now we can register and detain them  
all we want, but it all still comes down  
to them or us.

GYRICH  
Well, believe me, we are serious--

SEN. KELLY  
You know, “men of character” goes  
both ways.

Beat.

GYRICH  
We said we weren’t--

REV. STRYKER  
Let the man speak, Henry.

Kelly pulls out the Weapon Plus documents and places them on the table. Stryker leans back. Gyrich stands.

GYRICH  
Anne, could you maybe help me with--

REV. STRYKER  
She stays right here.

Gyrich takes a seat.

SEN. KELLY  
Experimenting on American citizens.

REV. STRYKER  
Experimenting on mutants. If we had  
done it today they wouldn’t have  
been citizens, thanks to your bill.

SEN. KELLY  
Do your followers know about this?

REV. STRYKER  
_(taps documents)_  
...This, is what brought me to the  
church. What led followers to me.

SEN. KELLY  
Because you couldn’t make peace  
with it.

REV. STRYKER  
Because people like you didn’t have  
the stones to keep it going.

SEN. KELLY  
Look, I think a partnership could  
be beneficial for both of us, but  
if taking on you means taking on  
this, I don’t think I can.

Beat.

REV. STRYKER  
Well then, it was nice meeting you  
gentleman. I’m sure you can see  
your way out. Come, Anne.

Stryker and Anne rise from the table and walk out. They get as far as the doorway.

SEN. KELLY  
Reverend... Can you make it go  
away?

Stryker turns back to Kelly.

REV. STRYKER  
When the program was  
decommissioned, we... We were very  
thorough. Your little notes there--

Kelly places a LARGE PHOTO on the table. This time face down.

Stryker hesitates, then walks over to it. He flips over the photo to see a blurry black-and-white image of Logan.

SEN. KELLY  
That photo was taken a year ago  
outside of Osaka.

REV. STRYKER  
I see... I’ll take care of it.

The two men shake hands.

  
INT. WILDKAT KLUB - LOWER EAST SIDE, NY -- NIGHT

A dark corridor, PULSATING MUSIC. Angie, in big NOVELTY SUNGLASSES and a RAINCOAT over her wings, passes under a light. Ismael leads her by the hand into the strip club.

LORELEI TRAVIS, a curvaceous white woman in a bikini dances on the main stage. Locks of her GLOWING PINK HAIR caress her skin like a lover’s hands might.

ANGIE  
She’s pretty.

ISMAEL  
Don’t stare.

Ismael struggles not to stare himself. He walks to a door along the back wall, guarded by a WISE GUY.

ISMAEL (CONT’D)  
I was told to come here.

WISE GUY  
They tell you to bring the rugrat?

ISMAEL  
Couldn’t get a sitter.

Angie flashes her insectoid eyes. The Wise Guy opens the door.

  
INT. BACKROOM/WILDKAT KLUB -- CONTINUOUS

Ismael leads Angie into the back, which is much bigger than the club itself. At a folding table in the center sits UNUS THE UNTOUCHABLE, 40’s, muscular with slicked black hair. He counts and bands a LARGE PILE OF CASH.

Behind him stands CARMELLA UNUSCIONE, 30’s, a sturdy woman in a pantsuit. Seated around the room are a few other WISE GUYS and piles and piles of BOXED GOODS. Unus looks up.

UNUS  
Ortega, right?

Unus waves him over. Ismael directs Angie to a seat in the corner.

ISMAEL  
Just gonna be a little bit, mija.

Angie obliges. Ismael takes a seat opposite Unus.

UNUS  
_(re: the room)_  
Big, right? Used to be a speakeasy.  
So, what can I do you for officer?

ISMAEL  
I’m looking for someplace safe to  
stay. For my daughter and I.

UNUS  
Who’s the mutant? You, her? Both?

ISMAEL  
She is.

UNUS  
Cutie pie over there? Oof, real  
threat to national security.

He laughs, then turns to make sure Carmella laughed. She did.

UNUS (CONT’D)  
Yeah, I’m not usually one for  
politics, but uh... This  
registration act has been real good  
for business. Take away mutants’  
rights, they come right to me.  
Who’s your daddy now?

Unus bands another stack, squaring it by HITTING it on the table. He then PUSHES all the money to the side.

UNUS (CONT’D)  
Listen, I got other cops on the  
take. Break ‘em off a few bills,  
they do me a favor. But you-- with  
_her_ \-- I gotta be honest, this is a  
different kind of leverage. So I’m  
not thinking a favor model. I think  
this is more of an employer-  
employee kind of a thing.

ISMAEL  
Where would we live?

UNUS  
I own two high-rises a few blocks  
from here. Moving only mutants in,  
charge ‘em more since they got no  
options. And I’m greasin’ some of  
your buddies to look the other way.  
I could move you in tonight. Top  
floor penthouse, rent-free.

ISMAEL  
That would be great.

UNUS  
You know what they’re callin’ them?  
The high-rises... Mutant Town.  
Cute, right? Because you know what  
every town needs, right?

Ismael looks on, confused.

UNUS (CONT’D)  
A sheriff. Understand? I’m the  
mayor. You’re the law. Eh?

Ismael nods.

  
INT. CONVERTED CELL/THE ARCADE - CHIHUAHUAN DESERT -- DAY

DROOL falls from Logan’s sleeping head to his dirty mattress. Kurt steps quietly, avoiding the BEER BOTTLES littering the ground. He cautiously nudges Logan’s shoulder. Nudges...

Logan SPRINGS off the mattress, GRABBING Kurt by the neck and PINNING him against the wall. He pushes his fist to Kurt’s forehead and EXTENDS his claws just as Kurt BAMFS away.

Suddenly Kurt is behind Logan, standing in a CLOUD OF SMOKE. Logan SLASHES through the concrete wall as he spins to face Kurt. Kurt holds his hands up, a plea.

KURT  
Entschuldigung! Entschuldigung!  
_(beat; thick German accent)  
_S-Sorry! _Sorry_!

LOGAN  
How did you get in here?

KURT  
I jump. Jump? Sorry. Only... Some  
English.

Logan’s breath slows. He drops his hand, retracts his claws.

LOGAN  
What do you want, elf?

KURT  
I want to get out. You help me, I  
help you get out too.

Beat.

LOGAN  
I’m here by choice.

Logan checks the bottles on the ground for leftover liquid. The cell has the same barred door and dirt floor as Kurt’s, but Logan’s has the mattress, a MINI-FRIDGE, a stack of VINTAGE PLAYBOYS, a TV.

KURT  
You choose this?

LOGAN  
Not the worst gig I’ve had. Mojo’s  
better than the cartels. And he  
pays on time.

KURT  
Pays? Why?

LOGAN  
‘Cause I’m the best there is at  
what I do. But what I do best,  
isn’t very nice.

KURT  
I could never. I do not like  
fighting.

LOGAN  
Yeah well... Life hasn’t presented  
me with a lot of other options.

KURT  
I have the place. For you. Schau  
hier.

Kurt hands the magazine page with Xavier on it to Logan.

KURT (CONT’D)  
We go here. This man. He is friend  
of the mutants. But he is the  
mutant himself.

LOGAN  
New York? There’s a whole country  
between here and there. We’re in  
Mexico, bub.

Logan gives it back, walking away.

KURT  
I will get there. I will. When I  
was a boy, he saved me. He has  
power of the mind. He spoke in my  
mind. He will remember--

LOGAN  
_(turning)_  
A telepath?

Logan approaches Kurt, suddenly stern.

KURT  
Was?

LOGAN  
He read your mind? Got in your  
head?

KURT  
Ja... Why? What do you look for?

Logan paces, pondering.

LOGAN  
And you know this guy? He’s the  
real deal?

KURT  
He will help us.

Beat.

LOGAN  
I can’t enter the States. Persona  
non grata. And obviously you’re not  
getting a passport pho--

KURT  
I can help. I can jump.

LOGAN  
Then why haven’t you jumped there  
by yourself already?

KURT  
I jump only where I see. I don’t  
know where I am. I don’t know the  
way.

LOGAN  
Well, what about me?

Beat. Kurt extends a hand. Logan hesitantly takes it. BAMF. They’re both gone in a puff of smoke.

BAMF. Kurt lands gracefully on his feet on top of the mattress. Logan FALLS from the ceiling, landing in the dirt. He VOMITS profusely.

KURT  
You get used to it.  
_(beat)_  
I’m Kurt.

LOGAN  
_(coughs)_  
Logan.

  
INT. APARTMENT HALLWAY - WASHINGTON HEIGHTS, NY -- DAY

Jean walks down the hallway, stopping in front of Ismael’s apartment door. She KNOCKS.

JEAN  
Officer Ortega, It’s Jean, from the  
school. I just wanted to speak to  
you again... I know that--

The Neighbor emerges from next door.

NEIGHBOR  
He moved out. I heard him packing  
up in the middle of the night.

JEAN  
Oh... OK, well... Do you have  
something-- I’d like to leave a  
number for him. In case he--

NEIGHBOR  
He was a mutant, you know. At least  
his daughter was. She became a bug.  
It was very gross.

JEAN  
I’m sorry to hear that... Would you  
mind if I leave a number with you?

The Neighbor disappears back into her apartment, and reappears with a PEN and POST-IT PAD.

JEAN (CONT’D)  
Thank you.

NEIGHBOR  
I hope they don’t come back. We  
needed to get rid of all of them.  
They’re kind of like bugs that way.

Jean looks up, unsure what to say. She just nods, finishing her note.

  
EXT. MUTANT DETAINMENT CAMP - ATLANTA, GA -- NIGHT

FOUR FIGURES are perched on a hill overlooking the camp. They nod at one another, then part ways. Only one remains on the hill. He raises his arms.

  
INT. THE BOX/MUTANT DETAINMENT CAMP -- NIGHT

Rogue is curled up, shivering. The hazmat suits are rolled in a ball in the corner. Her skin has returned to normal.

A RUMBLING FROM BELOW. The box shakes. She wakes.

  
EXT. BARRACKS/MUTANT DETAINMENT CAMP -- NIGHT

A SINKHOLE suddenly appears around one of the guard towers. The tower falls directly into the earth.

SIRENS WAIL. The LIGHTS COME UP. The Hazmat Guards scramble, grabbing rifles. They form a perimeter around the camp.

Then the other tower SINKS. The Guards point their rifles out into the darkness. Breathing heavy.

All of the guns FLY out of the Guards’ hands. Soaring directly upwards and disappearing.

The CONTAINMENT BOXES fly away, uncovering Rogue and Toad who now lie on the ground next to one another.

ROGUE  
What is happening?

TOAD  
I don’t know.

HAZMAT GUARD 1  
There!

A Guard points out into the dark. A FIGURE is charging toward the camp, but moving with the speed of a sports car.

HAZMAT GUARD 1 (CONT’D)  
It’s a ma-- It’s a mutant!

The figure LEAPS-- stories-- into the air.

HAZMAT GUARD 1 (CONT’D)  
Move!

The Guards SCATTER but it’s too late. The figure lands on top of them. The sickening CRUNCH OF BONE. With incredible speed and strength, the figure MANHANDLES the Guards, tossing them aside like toys.

Rogue watches with horror and fascination. She can now make out THUNDERBIRD, 20’s, the broad-shouldered Apache man with tribal tattoos and a face covered in war paint.

The other Hazmat Guards break in the other direction. MORE RUMBLING as a wall of SHALE ROCK shoots up out of the ground, blocking their path. The rock face trembles and then PARTS. From the narrow pathway in between emerges AVALANCHE, a solidly-built man in a sleek, face-covering HELMET.

Then the fencing TEARS itself up from the earth. It LEVITATES just above the ground, then snakes it’s way through the air to surround the remaining Hazmat Guards. The fencing wraps and tightens around them, EXTENDING JOINTS, DISLOCATING LIMBS, until it can not tighten any more.

All eyes turn to the sky as he descends, CLOAK billowing in the wind. MAGNETO, 50’s, a handsome and well-built slavic man with gray hair tucked under his own METAL HELMET, rides the METAL DISKS under his feet to the ground. He surveys the scene.

MAGNETO  
_(re: the trapped guards)_  
Yes. I like this much better.

Thunderbird and Avalanche walk through the gathered detainees, closely SEARCHING their faces. A few detainees take their chance to FLEE, heading into the woods.

MAGNETO (CONT’D)  
Brother and sisters. This camp is  
now closed. Which means all of you  
have a choice to make. You can turn  
and run, and keep running, for the  
rest of your lives. You can wait  
here, like loyal pets, until your  
masters return to feed you and walk  
you. Or you can take a stand--  
right here, right now-- and join  
us. And start living like you’re  
part of the most dominant species  
on this planet. Because you are.  
_(beat)_  
Exodus...

A SWIRLING VORTEX of deep black energy appears behind Magneto. Out of the vortex walks EXODUS, 20’s, a man with bright red skin.

MAGNETO (CONT’D)  
We’re going to liberate more camps.  
We’re going to grow our ranks. And  
when the time is right, we’re going  
to end the tyranny of humans.

His eyes scan the crowd of mostly middle-aged or adolescent mutants. No one makes a move. Thunderbird and Avalanche fall in behind Magneto.

THUNDERBIRD  
She’s not here.

MAGNETO  
Then we’re done.

Magneto turns, heading toward the vortex.

ROGUE  
Who are you?

Toad turns to Rogue, surprised. Magneto looks back.

MAGNETO  
I’m Magneto. And we are the  
Brotherhood.

Beat. Rogue walks forward, following Magneto.

TOAD  
Wait... Rogue?

She turns back to look at him.

ROGUE  
This is how I start over.

CUE: AN OMINOUS COVER OF NIRVANA’S “SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT.”

Rogue walks through with the Brotherhood. Toad slinks away, then turns and follows just as the vortex closes.

LYRICS: _“LOAD UP ON GUNS, BRING YOUR FRIENDS...”_

  
EXT. FEDERAL HIGHWAY 16 - MEXICO -- NIGHT

A MOTORCYCLE tears down the road. Logan drives with Kurt behind him, hanging on, covered in many layers of clothing as a disguise. His tail slips free, blown out by the wind.

  
I/E. STRYKER’S TRUCK/ROUTE 69 - HOUSTON, TX -- NIGHT

Stryker drives through the backroads of Texas. A folder of documents rests in the passenger seat.

  
EXT. RISMAN BARN - SUGAR LAND, TX -- NIGHT

Stryker parks near several other cars, then gets out. Matthew Risman, the producer, opens the barn doors for him.

_“...WITH THE LIGHTS OUT, IT’S LESS DANGEROUS...”_

  
INT. RISMAN BARN -- NIGHT

Stryker throws the photo of Logan down on a poker table. Risman and the six other men surrounding the table, nod.

Risman walks to the back and slides a panel over, revealing an ARMORY OF ASSAULT WEAPONS and BODY ARMOR EMBLAZONED WITH LARGE WHITE CROSSES. These men are the PURIFIERS.

  
EXT. MUTANT TOWN HIGH-RISES - LOWER EAST SIDE, NY -- NIGHT

Ismael and a disguised Angie climb out of a cab, both carrying a number of bags. They look up at the distressed housing projects. TRASH is everywhere and SHIFTY CHARACTERS, most with obvious mutations, hanging around out front.

_“...I’M WORSE AT WHAT I DO BEST. AND FOR THIS GIFT, I FEEL BLESSED...”_

ANGIE  
Hey, Dad. Can I?

ISMAEL  
Sure, mija.

Angie takes her glasses off, revealing her shiny black eyes. She shuffles off the raincoat, letting her wings free. Ismael looks around, no one bats an eye at them. Angie takes Ismael’s hand and leads him forward, her head held high.

_“...OUR LITTLE GROUP HAS ALWAYS BEEN, AND ALWAYS WILL UNTIL THE END...”_

Ismael eyes his new neighbors and they return his suspicion. They enter the high-rise and pass JAPHETH, 30’S, a big, bleached blonde Jamaican immigrant with two GIANT BLACK SLUGS crawling over him.

JAPHETH  
_(Patois accent)_  
Welcome to Mutant Town, brethren.

Angie and Ismael climb the stairs to their apartment. Japheth shouts after them.

JAPHETH (CONT’D)  
Me hope you survive the experience,  
man!

_“...I FEEL STUPID AND CONTAGIOUS. HERE WE ARE NOW, ENTERTAIN US.”_

END MUSIC CUE.

  
EXT. XAVIER MANOR - SALEM CENTER, NY -- DAY

Scott opens the front door, revealing a waiting Jean.

JEAN  
Hey Slim.

SCOTT  
Red.

JEAN  
...Look, I just wanted to say--

SCOTT  
Don’t worry about it.  
_(beat)_  
So you’re in?

JEAN  
Yeah... Yeah, all the way.

SCOTT  
_(smiling)_  
Come on. He’s inside.

  
INT. XAVIER MANOR -- DAY

Scott leads Jean through the foyer.

JEAN  
Can’t believe I’m back here. It’s  
like nothing’s changed.

SCOTT  
Well... Forge has made a couple  
renovations.

Scott touches a wooden panel, and a section of the wall rotates away, revealing a secret elevator. Jean is stunned.

  
INT. LOWER LEVEL/XAVIER MANOR -- DAY

Scott and Jean walk down the steel corridor. Wires spill from the walls, like they’re walking through an unfinished spaceship.

JEAN  
They’d already taken off by the  
time I got to the apartment. We  
need to go and find her.

SCOTT  
Well, we’re kind of in the middle  
of something.

  
INT. CEREBRO/XAVIER MANOR -- CONTINUOUS

TWIN CABLES snake from a HEADPIECE on the Professor’s head, into a sprawling, crudely-constructed SUPERCOMPUTER, with Forge at the controls. Scott and Jean enter. She’s in awe.

JEAN  
Forge... What is this?

FORGE  
My baby. Cerebro.  
_(checks screen; to  
Professor)_  
Kenya. We got her.

The Professor removes the headpiece. He turns to see Jean.

PROF. XAVIER  
Jean...

SCOTT  
She’s in.

PROF. XAVIER  
Well, I’m pleased to hear you’ll be  
joining us, but this will have to  
wait until we return.

JEAN  
Return? Wait, where are you going?

PROF. XAVIER  
...We’re going to get the others.

**END.**


End file.
